


Five Peace Lilies and a Puppy

by Se7en_devils



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Puppies, Space Husbands, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Se7en_devils/pseuds/Se7en_devils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Spock... Why is there a dog in the middle of our Kitchen?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Peace Lilies and a Puppy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Expelliar-Moose](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Expelliar-Moose).



> Written for [Expelliar-Moose](http://expelliar-moose.tumblr.com/) because not only is she awesome and lovely and great, it's also her birthday! So yeah, definitely go give her some love! Really, I couldn't have asked for a better fandom buddy, because she's one of the best in my book!  
> So, I hope you guys enjoy and I hopeyou love Hot Fuzz references because they're definitely there. You don't have to watched the movie to understand this (I hope, at least) but it definitely makes it funnier. Also, I hope you all love copious amounts of fluff, because that's pretty much all this is. No, seriously...

Jim was gonna kill him.

"Spock!"

They were everywhere; on the countertops, on the table, on the couch in the living room and the chairs in the dining room.  There was even one on the TV, just sitting there. Taunting him.

Okay...

Maybe that was an exaggeration.  And maybe they weren’t exactly _everywhere_ and maybe there were really only five and maybe all of them were sitting on the kitchen counter.  Except for the one perched on the TV, because that one _actually_ was there, left over from when Sulu had thought it would make a great white elephant gift.

The 'it' in question being a Japanese Peace Lily.  More commonly known as Spock's second spouse.

"Yes, Jim?"

After ten-something years of _this_ , it shouldn't have gotten to Jim like it did.  It should've stopped being cute or endearing or whatever it was years ago - he was thirty-seven for god's sake, Spock forty - but it didn't.  Because when the half-Vulcan popped his head out from their bedroom with a quirked eyebrow and a head that was cocked to the side, with glasses perched on his nose and just a few stray strands of black hair falling over his face, it was really hard to stay mad.  Not that he was mad to begin with - irritated, exasperated, yet not necessarily mad - but that didn't mean he had exactly intended on letting Spock know that.  Let the sorry bastard suffer.

"You are displeased."

"No shit, Spock," Jim sighed; even after eight years of marriage Spock was still the master of understatements.  "I said you could get one, not five."

"There was a sale," Was the simple response, as if that just explained everything.  Spock stepped from the bedroom, hands clasped behind his back and eyebrows still raised.  

Jim gave a wry smirk, "You sound like Gaila."  He leaned against the kitchen doorway and crossed his arms, expression still as cocky as it had been when he was twenty-five and twelve years younger.  

"While superficially that may be true, I assure you that my purchase was backed by a logical consensus."

"Uh-huh?"  His smirk deepened.  "Then please, don't hesitate to enlighten me, _professor."_

"The Japanese Peace Lily is known for improving indoor air quality and the relative ease associated with maintaining them.  Although I initially planned to only purchase one as we agreed, when I discovered they were being sold for only 25% of their worth it was only logical I take advantage of the circumstances presented.  If it eases your irritation any, I intend to keep at least one in my office at the academy."

"It doesn't,"  Kirk flippantly said.  He turned on his heel and lazily threw a cabinet open, stretching his back with a yawn.  "That still leaves four of those damn things, not including the bastard spawn that started this all."

"Indeed."  A pair of strong arms wound around Kirk's waist and for a moment he entertained the idea of batting them away.  But then he realized that took effort.  "I purposefully purchased one Peace Lily for each room of the house."

So instead he leaned back - because that required far less effort than anything else - and let his head drop against Spock’s shoulder.  He peered up at his husband with a lazy flick, “You’re not putting one of those things in the bedroom.”

“No?”

Kirk shook his head, “Definitely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s creepy.”

“I fail to see how an inanimate object can be classified as ‘creepy’.”

Jim sighed and pressed his nose into the heat of Spock’s neck, “It’d be like going to sleep every night with your second wife standing at the foot of the bed, staring at me with beady eyes and every time having to pray that glares can’t really kill.  Except your second wife isn’t an actual person, it’s a freaking plant.”

“Jim.” Jim smirked; he swore Spock sounded more exasperated than usual, as if ten plus years of _pure Jim_ had finally eaten away at his will to Vulcan.  Exasperation bleed through more easily, frustration was closer to the surface, but so was happiness.  Upward flicks of his lips became more frequent, tiny glimmers in his eyes more prominent.  It was a fair trade, Jim often figured.  “Seeing as I have never had a first wife to begin with, it is-”

“The Peace Lily would disagree.”  The look he earned in response was very reminiscent of one of Jim’s own exclamations of _seriously?_ and made him lightly smile into the crook of Spock’s neck.  “And Uhura.  And Scotty.  And Bones.  And practically everyone else at our wedding.  They called me your pretty little bride in white, you know that?”

Spock’s expression easily shifted from shallow irritation to full-blown affection.  Jim always had had that way about him.  “I was aware.”

“Exactly.  So its your second wife.  Or spouse.  Or whatever.  And it’s not going in the bedroom.  Not while I’m alive, at least.”

“Jim-”

Kirk’s eyes flicked upwards, his eyebrow receding to his hairline in a way that was so reminiscent of Spock it almost made him chuckle.  He’d been getting quite good at it the last couple of years - even if Uhura did call it creepy.  “This isn’t up for discussion, you’re not putting the damn thing in there,” He said in a way that made it clear that none of it was up for discussion.   _None of it._ Not even as he turned around in Spock’s arm and laid his cheek on his shoulder.  “And god forbid if you do put in there, then you can forget about satisfying that libido of yours anytime soon.”

Spock immediately started, nothing but a slight tensing of the muscles to show it, but Jim still smirked nonetheless.  And when the Vulcan parted his lips to speak, Jim still cut him off.  “There’s no way in hell you’re fucking me with _that thing_ in the room.  Too weird.  Even if you do look fantastically hot in glasses.”  

Spock swallowed, and Jim’s smile was definitely triumphant.  The blond watched as Spock looked away and breathed out in a way that was definitely a sigh, and then looked back down with an expression that Jim had come to associate with an indulgent look.  “Perhaps placing one in the bedroom would be - as Nyota would say - overkill.  Something else can be arranged, I am sure.”

Kirk hummed and smirked, and leaned on his tip-toes to let his lips skim against his husband’s cheeks.  “I thought you’d see things my way.”

There wasn’t a reply or any words to acknowledge what Kirk had said, but that was probably less because Spock was ignoring him and more because he was too busy indulging.  The Vulcan’s lips lightly skimmed against his husband’s in lazy flicks - slow, gentle movements that eventually led to Jim’s arms curling around his neck and his pink lips pleasantly pressing further.  

Spock certainly wasn’t complaining.  One of his hands came up to tangle with his human’s, his fingertips lightly dancing across his thick knuckles.  He felt Kirk shake with giggles against him at the light, teasing touches - even as the kiss deepened and he felt Jim’s own fingers reciprocate in kind.  It was a gesture which Spock should’ve been used to, but apparently not even a decade could tame the slight shudder that decided to travel down his spine.

He felt Jim slightly smile against his lips and-

“Spock…”

Jim pulled away almost abruptly, pulling an almost pathetic keen from the back of his husband’s throat.  The same husband who apparently decided that not even Jim’s puzzled tone was interesting enough to keep him from pressing soft kisses and light nips to his partner’s neck and jaw.  And neither was the way Jim unsuccessfully pushed against his chest to dislodge him, apparently.

“Spock, seriously…”

But Spock refused to budge.  His lips strategically moved up Jim’s jaw until he was at his ear, where a kiss was pressing to the rounded tip. Not that Kirk was complaining or anything, but...

“Spock… Why is there a dog in the middle of our kitchen?”

And even if nothing else did, _that_ certainly got Spock’s attention.  Quickly, almost comically, his head shot up and the second that it did - almost as if there were a cue - there was a bark from behind.  A dog’s bark.   

With raised eyebrows, he turned over his shoulder and-

There was a dog in the middle of their kitchen.  A beagle to be precise, that was happily wagging its stubby tail as it excitedly stared up at them both with big, brown, almost twinkling eyes.  Its mouth was craned open with excited pants as it shifted from foot to foot like an ecstatic child and as its butt waggled with its overactive tail.

“Spock, did you-?”

“I can promise you I did not, Jim.”

Kirk shot him a slightly skeptical look.  “You sure?  I mean, you were the one who came home with five different variations of the same house plant.”

“Bringing home a Peace Lily is drastically different from bringing home a dog.”

“You sure?”

“Jim, the statistical likelihood of me buying a dog and then forgetting said purchase of a dog is so minimal that it can be considered statistically equivalent to zero.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.  You didn’t buy the dog.  But if you didn’t buy him and I didn’t buy him, then…” He furrowed his brow and looked up at Spock, who was just as confused about the whole as Jim was at that point.  “Well, then where the hell did it come from?”

“I…” Spock stared at the dog, who had suddenly taken to rubbing his head against his pant leg. “Do not know.”

Jim shrugged and suddenly, Spock started to get a bad feeling.  It tended to be that Jim Kirk shrugging and the resulting course of events being positive in nature were correlated - but only in a very negative manner. “He’s kinda cute.”

“We are not keeping him.”

“Aww, why not?”

Spock watched as Jim kneeled down and called the dog over to him, who happily bounded into his arms and promptly proceeded to lick his face.  Spock resisted the urge to grimace, even as Jim laughed and scratched the beagle behind his ears.  Jim didn’t seem to mind the dog’s slobbery licking though, because it wasn’t much longer than a few seconds laters when Jim began talking in what Spock had long identified as _‘baby talk’._

“Jim, it is a dog that seemed to appear in our kitchen our of nowhere, with no foreseeable point of origin or return.  Please do not tell me that you do not see something wrong with this situation.”

Kirk paused his cooing to give Spock a particularly sardonic look, “Yeah, I bet he’s a Klingon Assassin and everything.  Come to kill us both for our crimes against the empire.”

“Your sarcasm is hardly helpful.”

“Hey-” Jim began with bright eyes and a laugh on the tip of his tongue, before he was stopped short by… Something.  One his hands paused by the dog’s neck and his brow furrowed as he seemed to grab for something.  “Wait...I think he has tags.  See?  No, Klingon assassins here.”

“Ignoring your continued use of sarcasm, in this case we will be able to return to his rightful owner.”

It was a hope that was dashed as quickly as it became a possibility, when Jim read over the tags - and then promptly burst out into hysterical laughter.  “Oh my god, Spock.  Read his tags.  Just…” He paused to laugh and to lean against a sleek, metal cabinet.  “Read them.”

An eyebrow rose at the request, his gaze distinctly doubtful and possibly even a tad frustrated, but Jim insisted and Spock had never been one to deny his husband.  So he kneeled down and, although he refused to let the dog anywhere within licking range, read the tags.

_\- Porthos -_

_Official Buddy of Jonathan Archer_

_San Francisco, California_

_Starfleet Academy_

Slowly, Spock raised his gaze to Jim, who immediately burst back out into laughter the second he did.  And Spock just watched him, because what else could he really do?

“Jim-” Spock began, before being promptly cut off by a hand being waved directly in his face.  “Jim, we cannot keep this dog.”

In between chuckles - which had quickly turned disbelieving in nature - Jim turned away from the dog and towards his husband.  “Well, what else are we gonna do with him?”

“The logical course of action would be to return him to his rightful owner.”

Finally the laughter died until it was nothing but a smirk and bright blue eyes, but Jim still looked hardly convinced.  “You mean the same owner who’s been dead for eleven years?”

Spock paused, apparently he hadn’t quite thought that through.  “Then we return him to Mister Scott.”

“No way, Spock,” Jim said as he, quite illogically, seemed to position himself between his husband and the beagle.  “I love Scotty and all, but we are not giving him a dog.”

“I am sure Nyota will maintain the dog’s safety and comfort.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jim shook his head, obviously not anywhere near close to budging.  “We’re still talking about the guy who lost this dog in the first place.  For fifteen years.  Via trying to beam him to an adjacent planet.  And ultimately failing.”

Spock inclined his head and breathed out, and Jim was already beaming even before he opened his mouth to say anything.  “Perhaps you make a valid point.”

Which, really, was just as good as a yes in Jim’s book.  “See?  You’ll have your Five Peace Lilies and I’ll have a puppy.  It’s a win-win.”

“I hardly consider this a win-win of any kind.”

Kirk tilted his head to the side as his gaze briefly darted to the dog laying at his feet.  “You’re just saying that because you don’t like dogs.  You’re a dog hater.”

“Jim it would be illo-”

Of course when he was cut off by a certain dog deciding that then would be a great time to slobber all over his face, Spock decided that perhaps a change in mind was in order.  Maybe he really was a dog hater.

Then again, with how unashamedly his husband was chuckling in the background, maybe he was a Jim Kirk hater too.

“We’re definitely keeping it.”

“We’re-” Spock began before cutting himself off.  Some fights were fights he would never win, and apparently the fight of whether to keep a dead admiral’s slobbering, uncoordinated beagle was one of those fights.  “Since you are the one so insistent on keeping him, then you will also be the one responsible for him.”

Jim smiled up at him, “Yes, mommy.”

“I’m serious, Jim.”

But he only smiled even wider, his eyes brightly twinkling in that certain way of his.  “I know.  I’ll be the best dog owner San Francisco has seen yet.”

“That remains to be seen.”

Kirk chuckled and rested his forehead against Spock’s.  Both of them kneeling on the floor, with a new dog neither of them knew they even really had trying to push in between them and Jim smiling while Spock did his own little _I’m-secretly-smiling-even-though-I’d-rather-be-rolling-my-eyes-right-about-now,_ thing.  It was downright romantic.

Kinda.

Maybe.

Not really.

Whatever.  

“Thank you,” Jim still whispered nonetheless and he leaned forward to press a kiss to Spock’s lips.

Except when he did, Spock definitely pressed a hand to his chest to keep him in place, “You are not kissing me when you have dog slobber on your lips.”

“Yeah,” But Jim was still grinning and Spock was still trying very hard not to indulge himself.  “But we both have slobber on our lips, so by kissing the slobber cancels out, right?”

“Hardly.”  And with that Spock quickly stood up, watching as Jim - who had definitely had most of his weight placed forward - fell forwards, onto his face in Spock’s absence.  Spock raised an eyebrow, stuck between warily eyeing his clumsy husband and the happily panting dog sitting at his feet.  Instantly, he regretted ever letting Jim do anything ever.  “Just as you will not let me keep a Peace Lily in the bedroom, I will not kiss you unless certain _sanitary,”_ And with that, the look he shot the beagle was definitely unfriendly.  “Measures are met.”

“You’re just bitter about the Peace Lilies, aren’t you?” Jim asked with a smug look as he pushed himself back up into a kneeling position.  He lazily brushed himself off, but didn’t bother straightening his clothes as he flashed a wide grin in his husband’s direction.

Spock brushed of the assertion, which meant it was a definite yes, and ignored his stupidly grinning husband.  “If you need me, I will be taking a shower.”

“Love you!” Jim called after him, even after Spock had already turned onto his heel and disappeared into their bedroom.  There was a second of silence following, but then Spock heard, in a quieter tone that might not have quite been for him to hear, Jim’s humor-filled voice again, “He really does love me.  He just doesn’t like admitting it.  Vulcans.”

And Spock, still hidden away in their bedroom, definitely let his eyes flick upwards towards the ceiling in what Jim would probably consider to be an eyeroll.  But that still didn’t change the way his lips slightly quirked upwards.

To some, it was as good as a smile.


End file.
